


As Many As You Want

by Em_Jaye



Series: Good Madness [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: A little angst, Bakery AU, F/M, Gen, Kid Fic, fluff and nonsense, nothing crazy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 02:33:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13514883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Em_Jaye/pseuds/Em_Jaye
Summary: "May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness"-Neil GaimanValentine's Day.





	As Many As You Want

**Author's Note:**

> Bonjour! I'm posting my Valentine's Day fic a little early so I can resume work on the next chapter of Shape I'm In and also the next installment of the Good Madness Universe. Hope ya'll don't mind and enjoy some more sweetness.

Valentine’s Day

 

Darcy was exhausted. An unprecedented deluge of business had befallen her little bakery around the tenth and they’d been collectively trying to keep their heads above water amid a never-ending line and a phone that wouldn’t stop ringing. She’d been baking and icing and dipping and coating and sugaring and mixing and stacking and boxing almost non-stop for four days and it was starting to take a toll.

_Bone tired_ , as her grandmother was fond of saying. Usually when she was clucking over the dark circles under her granddaughter’s eyes and telling her she was working too hard.

Like she had on Monday night when she’d stopped in for a cup of tea on her way home from her doctor’s appointment. She’d held a hand to Darcy’s cheek and shook her head and told her to either work less or buy better concealer next time she was at the drugstore.

And, as Darcy’s eyes caught the stack of special orders that needed to go out the door by 5pm, it looked like new concealer was going to have to suffice until the end of the week.

“Is it just me,” Alysha asked, yanking out a ticket as it printed back to her barista station, “or is Valentine’s Day on speed this year?”

“It’s just you,” Darcy assured her, not looking up from the shortbread cookies she was dipping in white chocolate. “It’s like this every year.”

“I don’t think so,” Alysha shook her head. “I don’t feel like I was being assaulted by fat babies with wings and crossbows at every turn last year. And I really don’t think there were all these hearts and pink and red bullshit everywhere.”

“There were,” Darcy said, wiping her fingers on her apron. “I promise.”

“You were just dating someone last year,” Jamie reminded as he breezed through the kitchen with a stack of boxes in his hand. “And you were so extra you were wearing that headband with the glitter hearts on the springs. It was gross and adorable. But now you’re a single, salty bitch like the rest of us.”

He was back out front before Darcy had stopped laughing. Alysha finished pulling a double shot and glanced back over her shoulder at the prep table. “Speaking of being in a relationship,” she said, not missing a beat as another ticket printed back. “What are you doing tonight?”

Darcy blinked and looked up again. “Uh...nothing.”

“What?!” Alysha asked over the screech of the steaming wand. “What do you mean, ‘nothing’?”

“I mean the absence of a thing,” she said plainly, transferring a dollop of white chocolate to her hair as she swiped back a loose curl with her wrist. “I’m not doing anything tonight but going home and taking my bra off and going to sleep.”

Her barista pouted. “But aren’t you in love? Don’t you want to spend the night on the town with your hot piece of man-candy?”

“Nope!” She said boldly before she corrected herself. “I mean, yes, I’m in love,” she said quickly. “But no, I don’t want anything to do with Valentine’s Day and all the bullshit that goes with it.”

Alysha huffed. “Well that’s no fun. Did you tell Steve that?”

Darcy laughed. “Steve is well aware of my feelings on the subject.”

“Was he disappointed?”

She rolled her eyes. “If he was, he played it incredibly close to the chest.”

“Aw, I don’t know,” Alysha countered with a coy smile. “He seems like a such a romantic--I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a surprise or two up his sleeve.”

 

***

 

Steve could hear the clatter and commotion of a busy kitchen behind the woman who answered the phone. “D’Amicos; we’re all booked for the evening.”

“Oh, I know,” he assured her. “I made a reservation about three weeks ago. I just wanted to confirm it.”

“Oh,” she sounded a little less harried and the sound in the background diminished as she made her way to what sounded like a quieter part of the restaurant. “Uh, sure,” she jostled some papers around. “What’s the name and how many?”

“It’s Rogers,” he said with a smile. “Steve Rogers, and there’s only going to be two of us.”

“Rogers...Rogers...Rogers....” she stopped and he heard a pen thwack against the edge of the phone. “Yep. Here you are. Steve Rogers, two for six o’clock. You’re one of the earlier ones.”

He smiled. “Well, my date has to be up pretty early tomorrow, so I didn’t want to keep her out too late.”

“You’re lucky you got a spot, actually,” the hostess continued. “The earlier tables fill up quicker than the later slots; especially when Valentine’s Day falls on a weekday.”

“Glad I called early then,” he said. “Thanks for double checking for me.”

“Anytime,” she said simply. “See you at six.”

They hung up as he reached the door of his Wednesday office at the same time as Dominique, one of the full-time editors. She smiled as he held the door for her. “Thanks, Steve,” she said, brushing the snow off her coat and hat while he followed her inside.  She glanced back at him and smiled. “No treats today?”

He grinned back. “Am I that predictable?”

“It’s my job to notice patterns and repetitions,” she reminded. “And you’ve been bringing us treats every Wednesday since before Christmas. Hell, it’s half your fault I’ve gained five pounds since you started dating that baker.”

He laughed and felt the tips of his ears turn red. “Sorry, Dom,” he said with a shrug. “No treats today. Darcy all but begged me to stay away from the shop; she said she’s got more work than sense because of the holiday.”

Dominique gave him a pointed look over the tops of her round, gold glasses. “I don’t recall Darcy’s bakery being the _only_ one between your house and us.”

He laughed louder than he had before and held the next door for her. “Duly noted,” he said. “I promise the treats will resume next week.”

She waved goodbye to him as they parted ways at the cubicle farm and he made his way to the cube they’d reserved for him. His phone started ringing again as soon as he started his laptop. He answered it, frowning at the familiar name on the screen. “What’s up, Nat?”

“Hey, I would have texted but I’m walking and I hate people who do that,” she said breathlessly, by way of greeting.

“It’s...fine,” he said slowly. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” she said quickly. “But I’m going to grab Charlotte from school today instead of Bucky. I guess he switched shifts with someone last minute for some overtime.”

He blinked. “Oh, okay. That’s fine,” he said. “Did he call you?”

“Yeah,” she said simply. “He said he was going to call you later but he was getting called out. I told him I’d tell you about the swap.”

“Okay,” he repeated. “If you’re sure that’s okay.”

“It’s fine,” Natasha assured him. “I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t. I’m not on call until the weekend.”

“No big Valentine’s plans?”

She scoffed. “Please. No one deserves my ass more than my couch, tonight.”

He grinned. “Well that’s true,” he agreed. “You’re too good for most of the men in this city.”

“I’m too good for most of the men in _any_ city,” she countered. “Anyway, I’m at the gym and I’ve gotta prep for class in ten. Just wanted to let you know what was going on.”

“You’re gonna bring her home after school?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Great,” he smiled. “Thanks for helping out.”

“Anything for you, big guy,” she quipped before she added, “I’ll see you later.”

They hung up and Steve managed to get almost an entire layout complete before his phone buzzed again. This time with an email letting him know that the flowers he’d ordered had just been delivered.

 

***

 

“Hey Boss-Lady,” Megan called from the front of the store. “You’ve gotta come sign for something!”

Darcy sighed and dropped the glove she was about to slip onto her hand. “Seriously?” she called back. “Can someone who’s not up to her elbows in egg whites sign for it?”

“‘Fraid not!” It was an unfamiliar voice that called back; when Darcy glanced over, a young man with a full beard and a snow-covered beanie grinned back. “Sorry,” he added. “Store policy.”

She let out a second sigh and abandoned the gloves and ingredients on the prep table. She pushed back her hair and wiped her hands on her apron before she approached the crowded counter. “I didn’t order anything,” she said, almost as an afterthought as she handed the courier back his handheld device.

“No,” he agreed before he dropped out of sight for a moment and returned with a vase full of explosively bright purple and orange star-gazer lilies. “But someone named Steve Rogers did,” he finished with another wide smile and handed the vase over the counter.

Darcy felt her face flush as he handed her the card and every eye in the bakery turned to her. “That sonofabitch,” she muttered, fighting a grin that threatened to destroy her bad mood entirely. “Thanks,” she said to the driver. “Meg, can you put these on the display case for now?” she asked, resisting the urge to cover her face and hide her pink cheeks from her employees and customers.

Megan nodded, her round cheeks dimpled with delight as she picked up the vase and set about finding it a home on the main pastry case.

“Aha!” Alysha crowed victoriously while she drizzled a swirl of chocolate against a mug for a mocha. “I freaking _knew_ Mr. Wonderful couldn’t resist spoiling you today.”

“Oh, shut up,” Darcy rolled her eyes and opened the card. _These aren’t Valentine’s Day flowers_ , he’d written in his blocky, all-caps script, _they’re just Wednesday flowers. I love you. -Steve_

“Oh my God, look at your face,” Alysha giggled. “You practically have heart eyes.”

“Shut up,” she repeated, but with the smile that was refusing to stay put, her command had lost its venom. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and waited for Steve to answer. “Hey, rule-breaker,” she said while she tucked the phone between her ear and her shoulder to add the sugar to her vat of egg whites.

“A.),” he greeted easily with that smile she could always hear in his voice, “I don’t know what you’re talking about and B.) I never agreed to your rules.”

“Ugh,” she grumbled. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

“Well you’re beautiful,” he said. “And you’re welcome. And before you say anything about not having anything for me, I don’t want or need anything for Valentine’s Day.”

“Alright,” she teased. “If you say so. I mean, I was going to say that all I have to offer are sexual favors but if you’re sure you don’t want anything...”

“Oh, hey now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Steve laughed. “How’s your day going, anyway? How’s business?”

“Batshit, banana-balls insane,” she said bluntly and grabbed her immersion blender as he laughed. “I’m never making another heart-shaped cookie as long as I live.”

“I don’t think anyone would blame you. What are you making right now?”

“Strawberry meringues that I’m going to dip in chocolate,” she switched on the blender. “And no, you can’t have any even if they sound good because I’m making exactly the five hundred that are spoken for and not one more.”

“What about extra cookies?”

“Nothing! I’m not bringing anything home. I don’t want to see a single extra-curricular baked good for at least a week.”

He sighed. “You’re so mean.”

“Oh, you love it.”

“I kind of do,” he admitted with another smile. “Which is unfortunate for me. Stuck at work all day. Alone. On Valentine’s Day.”

“February fifteenth I’m all yours, Handsome,” she quipped with another smile. “And I’m not working Saturday, so you get me all weekend if you want.”

“I want,” Steve assured her.

“Good,” she grinned. “I want too. But now I’ve gotta whip these whites into shape. Thanks for breaking the rules,” she added. “Made my day.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too,” she said and let him hang up first before she tucked her phone back into her pocket. When she glanced up, Alysha was staring with a smug smile on her lips. “Enough,” she said and pointed to the espresso machine. “Drinks.”

“I can make drinks and still be obsessed with your grotesquely perfect love life!” her barista reminded as she turned back to her full rail of waiting tickets. “I’m really good at multi-tasking.”

“I know, Leesh,” Darcy sighed and shook her head. “That’s why I pay you the big bucks.”

 

***

 

He’d picked up one of his suits from the cleaners on his lunch break and changed before he left the office. A quick glance at his watch told him he had just enough time to pick up a bouquet from the corner vender before he was late for pick-up.

There was a bunch of pink and yellow carnations that caught his eye and won out over a smaller bouquet of pink roses. He smiled at them in the cab, knowing exactly what kind of reaction they would evoke.

Clutching the flowers in hand, Steve took a quick second to smooth back his hair and adjust his tie again as the cab pulled up. He asked the driver to wait and took the front steps two at a time, unable to stop his smile when he noticed the front curtains swish as he rang the doorbell.

Charlotte answered with a bright, brilliant smile and in her favorite, sparkly pink dress and shiny black shoes. “Hi Daddy!” she greeted excitedly.

Steve grinned. “Holy smokes! Where’d my little girl go?” he exclaimed, making her laugh before he handed her the flowers. “These are for you.”

She accepted them like he’d given her an Academy Award and looked up with glittering eyes. “We look so fancy!”

Steve laughed and stepped inside as Natasha appeared in the doorway to the living room. She’d curled Charlotte’s hair for her and dusted some sparkly powder on her eyes and cheeks. “Ooh, let me put those in some water for you, little lady,” she said and took the flowers from her charge. She gave Steve a once over and a smile. “Lookin’ sharp, Dad.”

“Thanks,” he chuckled and grabbed Charlotte’s coat from the rack. “Shall we?” he asked, holding it out for her.

“We shall,” she agreed with a nod and a single moment of a straight face before her eyes caught his collar and she gasped. “Your tie is the same color as my dress!”

“Well, yeah,” Steve laughed again and bent to fasten the buttons she always forgot to fasten herself. “I thought a date with the prettiest girl in the world deserved a new tie, don’t you think?”

“You bought that just for our date?” she asked skeptically.

Steve nodded. “You better believe it.” He offered her his hand. “Come on,” he urged, “meter’s running.”

Charlotte looked back at Natasha over her shoulder. “Auntie Nat, can you put those in my room?” she asked of the carnations.

Nat nodded. “Of course, baby girl.” She smiled and waved to them both. “I’m just going to straighten up the mess we made in the bathroom and I’ll put these guys on your desk before I head home, okay?” Her smile widened. “Have fun on your daddy-daughter date.”

“We will,” Steve said. “Thanks for the help today.”

“Anytime,” she assured him, her hand on the door to close it behind them. “I’ll see you guys later.”

 

 

As expected, D’Amico’s was packed, though their reservation got them to their table on a few minutes after they’d arrived. Steve couldn’t help but smile as he watched Charlotte look around the small bistro with large eyes that lingered on the couples on the dance floor and the young woman playing the piano.

“I like this place, Daddy,” she stated after the waitress had brought her a Shirley Temple and taken their order. “How come we never come here?”

Steve’s stomach clenched momentarily before he reminded himself that this was part of the reason he’d chosen to come here. That there were things that Charlotte was going to ask that he was going to have to answer and pretending like he wouldn’t was just another form of running away. He took a sip of his drink and set his hands on the table. “Mommy and I used to come here all the time,” he admitted.

Charlotte’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yup,” he nodded and took a deep breath. “We came here on our first date.”

“You did?”

He smiled. “Mom used to live a few blocks away and she used to order from here so often they all knew her by name.” Charlotte’s smile urged him to continue. “Actually, she tried to act like she’d only been here once or twice the first time we came here, but after the fourth or fifth person came over and asked if she wanted her usual, she stopped trying to fool me.”

Charlotte laughed. “What did she usually order?”

Steve inhaled around that familiar twisting in his chest. It had been a long time since he let himself remember the little details of his life with Peggy. Her off-key humming while she got ready for work, the way she talked around a mouthful of bobby pins when she was pulling her hair up off her neck, her habit of leaving her socks all around the house. Little things that he should remember because they were things that Charlotte never got to experience. Things that would help her color in the image of her mother she held in her mind.

“She used to get the pork scaloppini for dinner and cannoli for dessert—and she’d never share—” Charlotte interrupted his answer with another giggle, “and then she’d order a side of meatballs to take home so she could have meatball sandwiches for lunch the next day.”

“Would she share _those_ with you at least?”

“Nope,” he grinned. “I had to get my own.”

They were interrupted by the waitress who set down their salads and a basket of breadsticks with an apology that the kitchen was a little behind and that their entrees would take a little longer than expected.

Charlotte’s waited until they were alone again before her expression turned wistful. “Is this where you asked Mommy to marry you?”

Steve laughed and shook his head. “No, that was the plan,” he admitted. “But she got really, _really_ sick with a stomach flu and we stayed home instead,” he remembered, a smile playing on his lips as the details came back to him. “And I probably should’ve waited and made it a little more romantic, but I was too nervous, and I didn’t think I could wait anymore so I just asked her while we were on the couch watching _Law & Order.”_

Charlotte’s nose wrinkled with a frown. “That’s not very romantic at all, Dad,” she informed him seriously.

“I know,” he assured her with a smile.

“What did she say?” she asked, her excitement returning after she took another sip of her drink.

“Well, she said yes—”

“Oh, good,” Charlotte let out a sigh of relief and reached for a breadstick.

He chuckled and continued. “No, don’t worry, she said yes right away. And she kissed me, and she told me she loved me and then she threw up all over the coffee table.”

Charlotte let out a shocked laugh as her mouth dropped open. “What? No, she didn’t!”

“She absolutely did,” he promised. “And she was so sick for the next forty-eight hours she said if I hadn’t given her a ring she might have thought she imagined the whole thing.”

His daughter was still giggling as she shook her head, a few blonde curls falling into her eyes as she did. “That’s _really_ bad, Daddy,” she assessed. “Nothing like the fairy tales.”

He laughed too. “Well, to be perfectly honest, your mom wasn’t a big fan of fairy tales. She always said she’d rather find the magic in the real world.”

Satisfied for a moment, Charlotte took a few obligatory bites of her salad and chewed thoughtfully on a breadstick while Steve swallowed back the tightness in his chest. Even in memory, Peggy made his heart race and his breath grow short.

Across the table, Charlotte was looking pensive as she dabbed her fingers on her napkin. “Daddy?” she asked after another moment. “Can I ask another question about Mommy?”

Steve smiled softly. “You can ask as many questions as you want, sweetheart.”

“When did you know you wanted to marry her?”

“Oh, that’s an easy one,” he answered, letting his eyes trail over to the dance floor where a few more couples had arrived to sway to the music. “That first time we came here,” he admitted. “She asked me if I wanted to dance and I told her I didn’t know how.” He glanced down at his plate and remembered just how nervous he’d been to admit that to her; how he worried she’d misread his reluctance to follow her onto to the dance floor as disinterest.

“Did she teach you?” Charlotte asked with that wistful sparkle in her eyes.

He nodded. “She said it sounded like the perfect time for a lesson,” he remembered. “And as soon as she took my hand,” he shrugged. “I knew I never wanted to dance with anyone but her.”

Charlotte smiled and turned to look back at the couples dancing for another long, thoughtful moment before she turned back. “Daddy?” she asked, a hopeful lilt in her voice.

He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“Do you think _we_ could dance? Just until our food gets here?”

Steve smiled around the lump that had risen in his throat. He pushed away from the table and stood, holding out a hand to his little girl. “I would love to.”

 

***

 

Every muscle in Darcy’s body groaned with each step up to the third floor. Buttercream was stuck under her fingernails, flour and powdered sugar streaked her hair, and parts of her skin were still sticky with vanilla extract and strawberry and raspberry preserves.

She fumbled with her keys as she neared the top step. The underwire of her bra had finally poked through the flimsy fabric around three o’clock and she’d spent the last four hours of her day counting the seconds until she could disrobe and fling it into the trash.

With her keys finally fished from the bottom of her purse, Darcy climbed the final step and stopped short at the sight of a basket sitting outside her front door. She frowned in confusion and approached with caution, spying a bottle of her favorite pink champagne and a box of truffles behind the cellophane. “I swear to God,” she muttered, setting down her flowers from earlier and reaching for the card stuck to the silver bow, “he’s out of control—” she stopped herself as she unfolded the note and read the message.

_Mom said sales have been off the charts this week—you must be doing something right. Take a minute and relax. We love you and are so proud of you!_

_(Aunt Raina would be too!)_

_Love,  
Jane_

_(With extra love from Thor, Aunt Selma, Uncle Reese, Grams & Pop)_

Darcy swallowed down the urge to burst into tears as she unlocked her apartment and slid her gift inside. She set her lilies on the coffee table and hefted the basket up next to them. The bow popped off easily and the plastic-wrap fell open like flower petals, revealing the treats within. Pink moscato, salted caramel truffles from her favorite chocolatier in Queens, a trio of bath bombs and a pair of lavender candles.

She groaned in delight. “Janey, you are too good to me,” she said, taking a deep inhale of one of the candles before she reached for her purse and fished out her phone.

Jane answered on the second ring. “Please tell me you’re not _just_ getting home,” she said seriously.

“I am, actually,” Darcy answered. “And I’m blown away by the utter sweetness that was waiting for me. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, well,” she could practically hear Jane shrug her narrow shoulders. “You didn’t have to agree to run the family business almost entirely by yourself and save my mother a lifetime of stress and hassle.” She paused. “So, I guess we’re even.”

Darcy laughed and kicked out of her shoes. “I’m also uniquely unqualified for anything else,” she reminded her cousin. “So, it really worked out for all parties involved.”

It was Jane’s turn to laugh. “How was today, anyway?”

“So. Goddamn. Busy.”

“Oy,” Jane said with a sympathetic sigh. “At least you’re home now and you can relax and soak in your awesome tub and forget that you still have two days of work left.” She paused. “Or…wait—are you going out with Steve tonight?”

Darcy held the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she dropped her coat and unclasped her failing bra; she shimmied the hated garment out from underneath her t-shirt and deposited it on the floor with a laugh. “Oh, Christ no,” she said, heaving a sigh of relief. “He’s on a date with Charlotte.”

She heard Jane smile. “Well, that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“It is _so_ cute,” Darcy agreed, unbuttoning her jeans and shoving them off, pulling her socks with them.

“So…” Jane paused. “And I’m not rushing anything here…but do you think we’re ever going to meet them? This adorable duo you spend all your time with?”

She winced with guilt. “Yes…” she said carefully. “I promise. At some point.”

“At some point,” Jane repeated.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed as she made her way down the hall toward her bedroom. “I just…everything’s going so well and I just…” she let the words die on her tongue. She didn’t have a real excuse, after all. She hadn’t introduced them to her family because it never seemed to be the right time to bring it up. And meeting her family usually meant meeting the _whole_ family and the idea of getting everyone together just seemed like an impossibly exhausting challenge when she was so tired she was having trouble remembering how to turn on the lights in her room.

“Okay, I’m not pushing,” Jane said hurriedly. “Mom really wants to meet him—and Charlotte, too—and I told her I’d nag on her behalf.”

Darcy laughed as she flopped onto her bed. “Nag noted,” she said. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good; now stop thinking all together and enjoy the rest of your night.”

Her mind wandered back to the salted caramels and bubbles waiting for her. “Yes ma’am. No arguments from me.”

“Oh, and Darce?”

“Mmm?”

“Don’t fall asleep in the tub, please.”

She smiled into the phone. “I’ll do my best.”

They hung up and Darcy ran herself a nice hot bath, letting the water fill the clawfoot tub while she poured herself a glass of moscato, tore into the box of chocolates and moved her flowers into the bathroom so she could admire them while she sank into a fizzy, softly scented tub and let herself feel very loved indeed.

 

***

 

“Daddy?” Charlotte asked as she carefully placed one foot in front of the other on the wall that ran alongside the park.

Steve shifted their takeout bag to be able to offer her his closest hand to hold if she needed it. “Yes?”

“Do you love Darcy?”

He blinked, surprised by the change in topic. She’d been peppering him with questions about Peggy all night. “Uh, yeah,” he answered after a minute. “Yeah, I do.”

Charlotte glanced over, taking her eyes off her feet for a moment and gave him a quick grin. “Me too,” she said.

“That’s good,” he smiled. “She loves you too.”

“I know,” Charlotte answered simply. “Do you love her like you loved Mommy?”

The question knocked his head back an inch in surprise. Though, if he was honest, it shouldn’t have surprised him that she’d want this clarified at some point. He thought for a moment before he answered carefully. “I’ll never love anyone like I loved Mommy,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I love her any less,” he added, “it’s just different.”

“Why?”

“Well, for one thing, she’s a different person,” he reminded. “And I’m a different person than I was when I fell in love with Mom.”

“What do you love about Darcy?”

“Lots of things.”

“Like what?”

Steve rolled his eyes, knowing she wasn’t going to let him off that easily. “I love how kind she is, and how funny, and mostly I love how much she loves you.”

Charlotte looked up from her feet again and smiled. “I love her hugs,” she said without hesitation. “And how much we laugh when she’s around. Do you think you’re going to marry her?”

He let out a heavy breath. “So many questions tonight,” he commented lightly.

“You said I could ask as many as I wanted.”

“I know.”

“So?” she prompted, glancing in his direction. “Do you?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s a little early to be thinking about that, don’t you think?”

She frowned. “But you said you knew you wanted to marry Mommy on your first date.” Her patent leather Mary-Janes landed little too close to the edge and she swerved downward off balance. She grabbed his hand and righted herself in the next breath, ignorant of how her near-miss had sent her father’s heart squarely into his throat without warning.

He recovered as fast as she did and closed his hand tightly around hers for the next few steps to steady them both. “Well yeah,” he agreed. “But I still waited a year and a half to ask her. And,” he reminded, “like I said, very different circumstances.”

“Hmm,” Charlotte hummed, noncommittal. “Dad?”

“Yes, Charlotte?” he asked patiently, wondering just how many more questions she had loaded in her mind.

“How come you wanted to have a date with me tonight instead of Darcy?”

Steve gave her hand a squeeze and smiled when she looked over at him. “Because you’re my best girl,” he reminded. “And I wanted to make sure you remembered that.”

She grinned back. “I remember,” she assured him.

“Plus,” he continued, “it’s been just you and me for so long…I guess I wanted to make sure you were okay with how things have been changing lately.”

Charlotte was quiet for another few carefully balanced steps before she spoke again. “But Dad, it’s never _really_ just been you and me.”

He glanced over, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve always had Uncle Bucky and Uncle Sam and Auntie Nat and Nana and Grandad and all kinds of people in our family. They’re our village,” she decided with a toothy smile.

“Our village?” Steve repeated, amused.

“I heard it in a story at the library,” she said with a shrug. “The lady in the story said, ‘it takes a village to raise a child’.” She shrugged again. “I think that’s kind of what it means. They’re our village.”

“Yeah,” he said with a laugh. “I guess they are.”

“But,” she still hadn’t let go of his hand and used it as leverage to jump down unexpectedly and resume her pace on the sidewalk, “I’m okay with adding Darcy to our village.” She glanced up with a smile. “As long as we can still have dates sometime.”

Steve wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side as he bent and kissed her hair. “Whenever you want, sweetheart.”

She looked up ahead and back at him with a devilish look in her eye. “Can we get doughnuts before we go home?”

He groaned. “Doughnuts?” he looked at his watch. “We’ve gotta get home and get you to bed, little miss. You’ve got school in the morning.”

“I know,” she sighed, “but the doughnut shop is _right there_ ,” she pointed to the familiar red sign up ahead. “And they have heart-shaped ones for Valentine’s Day.” Her blue eyes turned hopeful again. “Please, Daddy? Just one?”

He relented with a sigh. “Okay, but you’ve gotta promise, no sweets tomorrow, okay?”

Charlotte held up a pinky. “I swear.”

They hooked little fingers and she took his hand again. “And just one,” he reminded, letting her pull him toward the shop.

“Just one,” she repeated, before she looked back over her shoulder with the kind of wide, toothy smile that melted his heart and what was left of his resolve. “Daddy?”

He sighed good-naturedly. “Yes, Charlotte?”

“This is the best date ever.”

 

***

 

Despite the sugar rush and the excitement, Charlotte fell asleep almost as soon as they got in the cab to go home. He carried her inside and up to her bed without waking her. It wasn’t until he’d gotten her into her jammies and was pulling the covers up to her chin that she stirred and blinked sleepily at him.

“Did Auntie Nat save my flowers for me?” she asked, glancing around the dimly lit room.

Steve pointed to her desk, where Nat had left the vase as promised. “Right there,” he assured her. “You can look at them in the morning.”

“Okay,” she whispered and sank back down into her pillows. “Did you put our meatballs away?”

“Yep, they’re in the fridge.”

“Can we have them for dinner tomorrow?” she asked, her eyes closing slowly again.

Steve let his hand rest on her head. “You got it; now go to sleep.”

“Thanks for a fun night, Daddy.”

“Thanks for being such a fun date,” he countered and bent to kiss her temple. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” she murmured, already half asleep.

His phone vibrated in his pocket with a text as he was closing Charlotte’s door.

_How was the big date?_ Darcy had asked.

He skipped sending her a reply and hit the button to call her instead. “I’m kind of surprised you’re still awake,” he admitted when she picked up. He turned off the lights in the hallway and made his way to his bedroom, loosening his tie as he did.

“Me too,” Darcy let out a soft laugh. “I’m probably going to pass out in a few minutes.”

“The date was great,” Steve told her. “We had a really nice time.”

“Oh good,” she said, sounding so genuine it brought another smile to his lips. “I’m glad.” She yawned loudly and unapologetically.

Steve tossed his tie on the hook and unbuttoned his shirt. “You didn’t have to answer, you know,” he reminded gently, “I’m not going to be offended if you want to get off the phone and go to bed.”

“I know,” she answered simply. “But I wanted to hear your voice. I missed you.”

He sat down on the edge of his bed. “I missed you too.”

“Would you be okay with just laying on the couch and watching movies and playing in the snow all weekend?”

Steve let out a hum of amusement. “That sounds good to me.” Anything with Darcy sounded good to him—even the simple, mundane things like her lazy weekend aspirations.

“Okay,” she gave a contented sigh that made him wish she was curled up next to him instead of across town. “I told Charlotte we’d make apple fritters.” Her voice was growing softer, farther away with each word. “Can you remind me to buy apples before Friday?”

“I can pick some up,” he assured her. “Go to sleep, Darcy.”

“Mmm,” she breathed. “I love you.”

Steve smiled again. “I love you too.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If photosets are your jam, here's the one I made for this story: https://78.media.tumblr.com/329cf06b2a194971cbbb589cdec20cb1/tumblr_p396z3QnFK1u32685o1_540.jpg
> 
> And also, let me know what you think? Because you love me and I love you and it's the season for lovers?


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